


Lessons

by Rynfinity



Series: Out of the Mouths of Babes [18]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Prostitution, Sibling Incest, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:43:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rynfinity/pseuds/Rynfinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Marci, you poor dear,” Sif tells the cat as Mac enthusiastically attacks her tail for the umpteenth time.  “I don’t know how you stand it.”</p><p> </p><p>This is a direct sequel to Plans and will make the most sense read after its predecessors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thor tries putting some of what he's learned into practice. It works better than he expected, for a change.

“Don’t be afraid to ask him to talk about the past,” Thor’s therapist had advised him the other day, in reference to Loki. “He’s had a lot more opportunity to come to terms with it than you have.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Thor had asked. The whole idea had sounded awfully uncomfortable – it still _is_ uncomfortable, even just thinking about it, several days later – and he hadn’t been (isn’t) completely sure why.

“Well, you have to trust that he’ll tell you that,” the therapist had reminded him. “It really isn’t your job to try and protect him from imaginary conversational dangers.”

Maybe it isn’t, but it feels like it _should_ be.

~

“So, um,” Thor starts off, not exactly brimming with eloquence, “what made you- I mean- I don’t think I could have done what you did.” His face is burning hot, despite the decided chill in the air.

Loki looks at him, visibly confused. “Huh?”

Thor picks a blade of grass and slowly peels it apart, splitting it the long way with one corner of his thumbnail and dyeing a green streak up his index finger in the process. “Um.” He clears his throat. This is so awkward. “Turning tricks,” he finally gets out. “I don’t think I could have done that.”

Now that he’s finally said it, it’s not even a question. It sounds kind of judgmental, to boot, which was not what he was going for at all. He sighs, exasperated with himself. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s something bad. I just- how did you do it?”

His brother smiles. He doesn’t look angry, or even particularly condescending. “It’s not like I chose it as a career, Thor,” he reminds. “I honestly didn’t have a lot of options at the time.” He watches Thor’s moving hands for a minute, then looks back up. “And I think you might be surprised what you are capable of doing,” he says, “if you have to. Which I hope you don’t.” He laughs, then, eyes sparkling. “But you’re right. I find it a little hard to picture you getting by in that particular manner. Not, of course, that you wouldn’t rake in the money. A body like yours…”

Loki runs a hand up Thor’s stomach, between his flannel shirt and his t-shirt. It tickles, and he wriggles. “Was it- difficult?”

His brother flops backwards onto the blanket with a soft grunt. “Yeah, actually. Sometimes.”

They’re at the park, on their usual hill overlooking the duck pond. It’s a beautiful day, sunny and clear, but there’s a distinct crispness to the afternoon that wasn’t there even a week or two ago. The leaves haven’t started to turn, not really, but some of the trees are already dropping more than the occasional green one.

There aren’t many people splashing in the water today, save one stubbornly determined toddler with a red plastic toy boat and a puffy blue jacket that is completely out-of-place with his rolled-up pants and bare little feet. Even so, the park is crowded. It looks like everyone knows the end is in sight, as far as the good weather goes, and people have come out in droves to enjoy just being here. While they still can.

That’s okay. It’s easier to talk about this sort of thing here somehow, in the relative anonymity of this park-going crowd, than Thor can even dream of its being at home. It’s easier than talking about it in front of Dr. Potts, too. Or, at least, the conversation is going better.

He decides to push his luck, just a little bit. While he’s being brave and all. And while Loki isn’t biting his head off. “Do you wish you hadn’t done it?” Thor turns to look down at his brother, who is shading his eyes – not covering them completely, just using a hand to block the direct sunlight – and rests his own hand gently in Loki’s free one.

Loki sighs. “I wish I hadn’t gotten hooked on pills,” he says, still sounding reasonably neutral and matter-of-fact. “I don’t dwell on it, because I’ve learned there’s no point,” he explains, “and I can’t have the past back to do over, but I do wish that much.” He squeezes Thor’s hand, then cocks his wrist a little and weaves their fingers together. “The rest of it all sort of stemmed from that, I guess. Buy one, get one free?”

“Oh,” Thor says. It’s not new news, really – he had more than enough exposure to the whole business working in the DA’s office; he gets it that an awful lot of crime is related to drug use, in a broad array of ways – but it’s somehow not something he’s thought of in exactly this context.

“Do you wish I hadn’t done it,” Loki asks after a few minutes, still holding Thor’s hand in his own.

“It’s not so much that,” Thor tells his brother (and it’s taken a long, long time to get here, to this place he should have been years ago, but he _is_ here at last and damned if he’s not proud of it). “Not anymore, anyway. It’s more that I wish you hadn’t _had_ to.”

Loki switches hands, eyes briefly squeezed shut against the glare, and rolls towards Thor. He props his head up on his newly-freed hand, bracing himself against the sloping ground with his elbow. “You actually expect me to believe you no longer care that I fucked a bazillion people? People who weren’t you?” He’s grinning, sure, but his expression looks closer to deadly than happy. “Nice try, baby.”

Thor considers carefully before responding. “No, you’re right. I don’t like that part. But I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” – he has, after all, and a lot of talking with his therapist over time – “and I finally get it… none of it has anything to do with me.”

“But it affects you,” Loki retorts, eyes narrowed.

“Everything that affects you affects me, and vice versa,” Thor agrees. “Because we,” – at least, he _thinks_ it’s “we”; he’d even bet on it – “care about each other. But that doesn’t mean I have to take it as a personal affront.”

This time Loki’s smile looks a lot closer to genuine. He pulls his hand free and gives Thor a gentle shove. “Who are you,” he teases, “and what have you done with my brother?”

Thor smiles back, then leans down to give Loki a long, slow kiss. “I’m trying,” he explains when they pause to breathe, “to make him better.”

“Don’t go getting too good for me,” his brother says. He’s teasing, sure, but he also sounds a bit like he isn’t and it tugs at Thor’s heart.

“I couldn’t ever,” he assures Loki. “It simply isn’t possible.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Loki says, giving Thor another – harder – push. “You are such a sap. Stop already.”

Thor does, but he feels pretty good about the whole conversation anyway.

~

“Marci, you poor dear,” Sif tells the cat as Mac enthusiastically attacks her tail for the umpteenth time. “I don’t know how you stand it.”

“Stop that, demon spawn!” Loki scoops Mac up under his spotted orange tummy and plops him on the floor. “He’s obsessed,” he tells Sif. “She’s so tolerant. I keep waiting for her to flatten him, but she just lies there and takes it. Ouch!”

Thor walks into the living room, tugging his sweater down. They’re meeting Steve for dinner across town, at that place with the awesome rooftop patio, and it’s getting cold enough in the evenings that layers are definitely warranted. “What’s going on, you- you _four_ ”, he asks, in his best schoolmarm voice.

“He bit me,” Loki complains as Sif laughs.

“But you like that,” Thor kids. “Go put on something warmer,” he adds over Loki’s _not from him I don’t_ , not caring for once that he sounds like their mother. “You don’t want to go turning blue on us halfway through dinner, do you?”

~

“You guys seem good,” Sif says quietly as Loki pads dutifully off to the bedroom in search of a sweater of his own.

Thor smiles. Mac is licking his fingers with a bright pink, scratchy-wet little scrap of a tongue. “We still have our ups and downs, believe me. But today was one of the good ones.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all fun and games until somebody loses an eye.

"No," Loki says.

Thor looks at his brother, a little startled. "I wasn't asking you," he clarifies. "I was telling you."

"Still, no." Loki's face settles into that familiar stubborn expression - eyes narrowed, mouth pressed into a thin, straight line - that sets Thor's teeth on edge. "That's not part of our deal."

Thor distinctly _does not_ recall any deals whatsoever surrounding work, with the possible exception of how he would continue to do it. There's probably nothing good that can come of pointing that out, though. "Look," he says, doing his best to sound patient. Reasonable. "I don't have a choice. I have to go. And it's only for two days."

"Three," Loki corrects. "You said Tuesday, Wednesday," - he counts them off; thumb, index finger, middle finger - "Thursday." He holds up his hand. "Three. And don't fucking sigh at me," he adds, just as Thor does that exactly.

"It's only two nights. I'll be here when you leave for the center on Tuesday morning," - he can _just_ pull that off if he drives like a bat out of hell afterwards - "and back before you go to bed Thursday evening." He sighs again, trying to use his inside voice this time. "Come on, baby," he wheedles. "Like I said, I have to."

Loki frowns. "Or else what, exactly?"

Oh, jesus. "It's part of my _job_ ," he repeats, a little less calmly this time. He shouldn't be letting his brother get to him like this, but he's come into the discussion unprepared. It really hadn’t seemed like something that would cause a battle.

"So, tell them you can't go. Your brother is sick," Loki offers. "You need to stay in town and keep an eye on him."

" _That's_ not going to help," Thor argues, frustrated. "They'll just make me go another time. _My brother_ can't be _sick_ ," he says, with air-quotes around _sick_ , and from Loki's expression it's crystal clear _that's_ a big fucking mistake long before he's even finished speaking, "forever."

"Oh, but you see," Loki says, levering himself up off the couch abruptly, "that's where you're wrong."

The brother in question marches off to the bedroom, just this side of stomping. Thor lets him go, concentrating instead on taking slow, calming breaths. The class isn't for another week and a half; they can talk the whole thing through again, another day, when Loki has had a ch- "What the hell do you think _you're_ doing,” he blurts out without thinking as his brother marches back into the living room in jeans, boots, and a charcoal grey leather jacket.

"Going out," Loki says archly. "Since it's okay for me to be on my own now."

"Excuse me?" What his brother is saying takes at least five seconds too long to sink in.

"You heard me," Loki says, deftly flipping his keys as he disappears from view behind the closing door. "Have a nice evening."

_Not this again_ is, probably regrettably, the first thing that comes to Thor's mind as he - too slow to react yet again - pops up and hurries for the door. By the time he toes his shoes on and carefully latches the door behind him (with the cats, he knows – and he’s momentarily proud of himself for remembering at a time like this, before choking panic washes over him again - he can't simply sprint out and leave the place wide open anymore), he's missed the elevator. He takes the stairs, as fast as he can, but the lobby is starkly empty.

Outside, he looks both ways and sees- people. Unfortunately, not one looks to be his wayward sibling. It's well along towards dark, and Loki - with his black hair and shadowy clothing - is dressed to blend.

Thor sits heavily on one of the fancy metal benches flanking the main entrance and tries desperately to focus. This isn't like their old neighborhood, a stone's throw from the slums... it's a nice area, with the occasional cafe and fancier place. The park is just a few blocks away – he isn’t going to think of the pond, he _isn’t_ \- and even on a weeknight the sidewalks are busy with pleasant, upstanding-seeming people.

Maybe he should just let Loki walk it off, whatever _it_ might be.

It's not like he _wants_ to go to this stupid training. He barely even uses the application in question and is sure - he did it the first time, no? - he could easily master the updates working solely from the manual. But his boss is insistent, and Thor hates to waste a get-out-of-jail card on something that should be so trivial.

Except of course it’s not, because nothing ever fucking is.

~

He sits there for quite a while, staring blankly at his silent phone and trying to get his thoughts in order. This _isn’t_ like last time; the weather is good, Loki is a whole lot more stable (they both are?), his brother’s sordid past isn’t lurking just around the long corner.

But it is. Loki’s past lurks around _every_ corner, everywhere. Every fucking time.

Eventually Thor can’t sit anymore. It’s just too difficult, once he makes the transition from angry-panicky to sad. Instead, he gets up and walks to the end of the block - it’s not like he can just send Volstagg to do his dirty work; not here - hoping he’ll find his brother sulking ominously in the coffee shop they favor on those slow weekend mornings.

He doesn’t; Loki isn’t. What Thor does find – Steve, getting a couple of what are now officially labeled “day-old” chocolate croissants (even though they were probably just fresh around lunchtime) on the way home – is worse, because now he’s been caught out without any sort of explanation.

“Hey,” Steve says, clapping him on the shoulder in a nice, comfortable man-hug. “How’s it going? How’s Loki? How are the cats?”

Thor teeters between being grateful for the out – he can talk about the cats and ignore the rest – and upset that he’s lost his chance to enlist Sif later on without having to flat-out admit he’d been lying. Or, of course, he could just be honest… except he can’t. He punts. “Hey! Are those good,” he asks, pointing to the bag of croissants. “They look it, but I’ve never tried one.”

That’s all true, at least.

Apparently, to listen to Steve wax poetic, the flaky golden-brown pockets are wonderful. Thor lets himself be talked into getting a couple of his own, hoping against hope he’ll have someone to share them with. If not tonight, tomorrow morning.

When they walk back outside, together, Thor realizes for the first time that – especially in contrast to the cozy warmth of the coffee shop – it’s uncomfortably cool now that the sun has gone completely down. Especially for people who (like, yes, him) _didn’t_ stop to grab a jacket before heading out.

“Sheesh,” Steve says. “Winter seems like it’s going to be a little more formidable here.” He smiles over at Thor, who barely manages to make himself smile in return. “Kind of like where I was stationed.”

“Yeah,” Thor says. It’s an opening, and he should take it. Right now conversation is too much of a struggle, though, when most of his brain is busy worrying about his brother. “Should be interesting.” And then he cringes, waiting for the _hey, are you okay?_

Fortunately Steve’s not like Sif that way; it doesn’t come.

~

“Say hi to Loki for us, and you two have a good night,” Steve tells him as they head to their respective apartments after exiting the stairwell.

“Thanks, man. Give my best to Sif,” Thor guts out as his own door closes. He’ll just grab a jacket and set the croissants inside, and then- “what the _fuck?_ ”

Loki frowns up at him from the floor, flippy feather toy held high out of the reach of Mac. Mac, whose little ears are back and whose little tail is lashing furiously. “Hi, sweetheart. It’s nice to see you, too.”

Relief and rage crash together behind Thor’s eyes, leaving his head spinning. “Don’t even. Where the fuck have you been?”

“Right here, actually,” Loki says, primly. He’s still wearing his jeans and boots; looking past him into the living room, Thor can see his jacket slung over the back of a chair. “Where have _you_ been?”

Thor cuts short a wordless roar when Mac bushes up and streaks out of the hallway. “Shit. Shit shit. I- I didn’t mean to scare him.”

“But it’s okay to scare me,” Loki observes.

“No, of course not,” Thor huffs. “But-.”

“Don’t,” his brother tells him. “What did you bring me,” he asks, looking up at the bag Thor’s all but forgotten he’s holding.

Thor ignores the question. “Seriously? You were here all along?”

Loki grins. “Yep. I ducked into the stairs and went _up_ a floor. You ran right underneath me.”

“You little asshole.” Thor still feels a little – a lot – too much like his head might explode.

“Maybe,” his brother admits. “Here, give me that, and go tell Mac you’re sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With Ginny's help, take two goes a little better.

"Well," Dr. Ginny Potts says briskly, tucking her perfect mechanical pencil behind her perfect ear, "let's break this down a little more, shall we?” It’s a question, but it isn’t. “Now, it's apparent to me" - she looks at Thor and then at Loki, clearly and deliberately - "that both of you are still harboring some feelings about what happened last night. We'll get to those, I promise. A lot of things went _right_ \- hear me out, please," - she instructs as Thor starts to interject - "and I do want to be sure we don’t lose sight of them. Thor," she asks, "can you tell me something you think you handled well?"

He's certain Loki won't agree but, actually, Thor thinks he can: "I handled my temper well, at least considering how afraid I was." Yes, he scared Mac a little, and he does feel bad (very!) about that, but the kitten's huff lasted all of two minutes. It’s pretty damned close to _no harm, no foul._

"Thank you," she says, as always, and then turns to his brother. "Loki, how about you? What's something you feel _you_ handled well?"

Thor cringes, but Loki actually sticks to the intended topic: "I didn't do anything stupid," he says, nodding. "I stayed in the building, I didn't hurt myself. I didn't do anything- regrettable," he adds, and then he _smiles_. "I mean, I suppose baiting my oaf of a brother could be lumped under _regrettable_... but it came out okay in the end."

"Good," Ginny says, to both of them. "Both of you found ways to get your needs met; ways which, although they admittedly don’t qualify as ideal, still didn't result in any real escalation. That's a big step!"

It does feel good, when he looks at it that way. Except it’s hard to do that when he knows Loki pulled a fast one on him. It just doesn't sit well. Thor raises his hand. "He lied, though," he complains when she gives him the go-ahead. "And that's hurtful."

"I didn't lie," Loki whispers. Thor flinches.

"Loki, do you have something to share," Ginny asks his brother a little too nicely.

"I didn't lie," Loki says, sounding smug. "I said I was going out; I did go out. I never specified how far out, or for how long."

She fetches her pencil again and makes a note. "Remember what we talked about a few weeks ago? About how a successful relationship is not a zero-sum game?"

Loki nods. It may be Thor's imagination, but he doesn’t really look sufficiently chastened. "If only one of us wins, both of us lose," Loki says, and then sighs. "I know, I know. But that was a big thing to just dump on me out of nowhere."

"Oh, please," Thor butts in, unable to contain himself any longer. "You're how old? You lived alone on the streets, as you're so fond of pointing out, for how long exactly?"

"That's enough, Thor," Ginny tells him sharply. "Let me handle this," she instructs his brother, who is suddenly all blazing eyes and balled fists.

_Good_. Let _him_ see how it feels to be treated like you're being fucking ridiculous.

"Thor," she says, pulling his attention away from Loki. "Do you really think, just because he sometimes brags about it when people are pressuring him, that Loki considers his days on the street a good thing?"

Thor tries a sideways approach - "I guess he _has_ told me it's not all it's cracked up to be" - that backfires. Loki folds both arms across his chest and leans abruptly away.

"Exactly," Ginny agrees. "Please keep in mind, too, that we're trying to keep this a safe place, a place where each of you can feel comfortable talking without fear of ridicule."

She's right - he has the sudden stomachache to prove it. He’s an ass. "I'm sorry," he says stiffly, focusing on her pencil.

"Don't tell me," she suggests, except it feels more like an order. "Tell him."

Thor twists to look at his brother's angry back. "I'm sorry, baby," he says. He is sorry, for real, and he's working hard to sound that way. "I was a jerk."

Loki doesn't unwind, but he does manage a short little nod.

"So, what do you think actually happened," Ginny asks, after a minute.

Thor takes a deep breath. "I was stressed over going. I _am_ stressed about it. I don't want to go; the whole thing makes me uncomfortable." He takes another breath, then sighs. "I wasn't even thinking about how he might react." Okay, that's not true. "Well, I was, but I was-..." It's too ridiculous. He can't even say it.

"Go on," she prods.

Ugh. "I- I kind of wanted him to make a scene so I’d have to stay home," he says in a quiet rush, “but it wouldn’t be my choice or my fault.”

There’s a long, uncomfortable pause, during which Thor- well, it probably doesn’t count as praying, but yeah. Finally, he takes another deep breath – he is _so_ well-oxygenated by now it’s nobody’s business – and laughs, still quietly. At himself. “Pretty stupid, huh?”

“Pretty _ironic_ , try,” Loki says. All the earlier heat is gone from his voice.

Thor can’t help but keep laughing. “The best part is, I shot myself in the proverbial foot. He tried to tell me I should use him as an excuse,” he explains to Ginny, “and I was so busy arguing by then that I made an impressive case for why I couldn’t do it.” Sometimes he really can’t imagine how he used to go to court. And win.

Regularly, even.

The tension in the room has finally broken. Ginny smiles. Loki says “let me guess: it made sense at the time,” but he laughs sweetly enough and Thor’s blood pressure only ticks up a point or two.

“How are you feeling about all of this now,” Ginny asks Thor, first.

He shrugs. “Stupid, really. I wish we could have just try the whole conversation over again, from the very beginning.”

“You can, you know,” she reminds him. It should be obvious, but isn’t somehow. “Loki, would that be okay with you?”

Loki shrugs as well. “I hardly think we could botch it _more_ thoroughly,” he says.

“Let’s start off here,” she suggests, “and then, if you’re both comfortable with the way things are going, you can try finishing your discussion at home.”

~

It’s not so bad, really, this time. Thor isn’t quite sure he really gets where Loki is coming from, even the second time around, but they’re able to joke about it (nicely) and talk without fighting. So, that’s a win. A win-win, really.

And they manage it without scaring the cats, too, even with Marci snoring softly on the couch between them.

“Chastity cat,” Loki says, pointing to her and grinning.

Thor pretend-pouts. “If you really wanted it, you’d find a way.”

“Oh, trust me,” his brother assures him, “I will.”

~

When all is said and done they come to reluctant agreement: Thor doesn’t want to go, and Loki isn’t thrilled about being left home alone, but there’s really no viable way around it. It simply makes no sense for Loki to go along for the ride; long days alone in a hotel, just so they can spend the nights together, would undoubtedly be harder to handle than simply staying with his usual center routine should be.

Together, they check the calendar. The first night of Thor’s training Loki has shelter duty (and Thor can arrange for the car service); the next, Loki will make dinner plans with Sif and Steve. He and Thor will be sure to skype before bed.

It’ll be fine.

And if it doesn’t feel _good_ , exactly, it’s certainly better.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Class is boring. Dinner is boring. Skype with Loki? Not boring.

"If you take only one thing away from today’s class, make sure it’s _save your work often_ ," the instructor reminds them – again - at the end of the first afternoon's session. It's a wise and noble message, no doubt. Still, Thor can't help but think that it was hardly worth driving all the fucking way out here for.

The guy sitting next to Thor - _Irving_ , his name placard reads - yawns. He has way too much gel in his hair. "Maybe tomorrow will be better," he intones, voice pitched below the general packing-up din.

"Ugh, I hope so," Thor agrees. Tomorrow is a full day, two four-hour sessions broken up only by the requisite sub tray, and he may die if it's all this tedious. "Maybe dinner will at least be decent?"

"It can't be worse than this," Irving says, closing his briefcase with a loud snap. Thor nods.

"Remember," the instructor calls out to the group from where he’s still standing near the front of the room. "If you haven't signed up for tonight's dinner outing, make sure you get your name on the list” – he waves it around – “before you head back to your hotel. It’s a good time; you wouldn't want the bus to leave without you."

Thor checks his watch. Loki is staying late at the shelter tonight, sharing (more pleasant, doubtless) dinner with Keisha and a couple of the interns.

He has, unfortunately, plenty of time for this _dinner outing_. As instructed, he dutifully prints his name and room number on the roster.

~

The hotel isn't bad for a corporate gig. They have an hour before the bus comes, and dinner is purportedly casual italian, so he hurries into his trunks and puts in a solid set of laps down at the indoor pool. Who cares if he stinks of chlorine during dinner; two days to go and he'll never have to see these people again. Not for the rest of his life, if he’s lucky.

~

"A guy like you, I'm surprised no one's put a ring on that finger," the towel girl says, smiling, as he reaches for a second one to wring out his hair.

Thor smiles back, not in the same way at all. "My partner's not into that kind of thing," he tells her smoothly. "Thanks for the towels." He turns to go without even waiting to gauge her reaction. Actually, he’s a little disconcerted to realize he's not even sure if what he just said was a lie.

~

"Criminal law? Seriously?" Irving has had at least two martinis too many. It’s a lot less funny than it might be if Thor was drinking as well. Which he isn’t. "Why the fuck are you here?"

"It was time for a change," he offers, shrugging. "Plus, we wanted to try living somewhere new," _and leave the past behind_ , he doesn't add. "I like what I'm doing, for the most part, and I didn't want to sit another bar."

Irving shakes his head. He has his JD too, from what he says, but he claims has always done contracts. From the sound of it he may not even have passed the bar anywhere... Thor doesn't ask, because 1) rude and 2) boring.

"So, what does your wife do," Irving inquires, eventually, after another gulp or two of his latest drink.

"Partner," Thor corrects. He can't decide if he's hoping good ol’ Irving here will start up with him or just let it go. He decides on the latter; Loki will be peeved with him if he earns himself a chance to spend the night in jail, and that won’t go well for anyone. "He works in an animal shelter."

Before Irving has any opportunity to comment, their instructor joins them. For the first time since he got here, Thor is actually happy to see the guy.

~

"Gnocchi in white clam sauce," he tells Loki - Loki, who is reclining on the bed in what looks to be a pair of black fishnet stockings; Thor can't see his brother's legs now, but Loki had flipped them quickly past the camera at the start of the call - "and I have _the worst_ garlic breath now." He blows at the camera, careful not to spit on his laptop. "Be glad you're not here."

"Oh, I am," his brother assures him. "But I'm not so glad _you're_ not _here_.”

With that Loki shifts, bringing one finely-chiseled knee into the frame. Sure enough: black fishnets. With garters. He brings one hand to his mouth and wraps his pink, pink tongue daintily around two slender, black-nailed fingers. "How 'bout you," he asks around them.

"Not fair," Thor groans as Loki purses his lips and pulls one finger and then the other slowly free. “And where in seven hells did you _get_ those?”

Loki smiles. “Out of my lingerie drawer. Next question?”

When his brother scoots back a little, reclining against the pillows and letting his legs fall open, Thor can hardly breathe. “This isn’t what I meant when I said we should skype,” he points out, because someone has to. His voice is low and rough. “I just meant-.”

“-we could have a dull, boring conversation,” Loki says, rolling his eyes dramaticaly. “My way is better… in fact, you don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.”

~

For an embarrassingly long time Thor stares, transfixed, as his brother runs a hand slowly from collarbone to pelvis and back again. Loki’s eyes practically burn a hole in the screen, but it’s his fingers Thor can’t stop watching. The fourth or fifth slide back up over his ribs, Loki pinches his own nipple between thumb and finger and tugs, arcing up off the bed and bringing- _everything_ briefly into view.

Thor clears his throat. “Touch yourself,” he orders. His own pants are uncomfortably tight. He has to pop open the button.

“Like this?” Loki shifts again to give Thor a better view and then skates his fingers lightly up and down his proud, flushed cock. His hand moves in and out of frame, slow and teasing. “Or like this?” He switches his grip and fists himself properly, hips rocking with the same punishing rhythm.

“Fuck, Loki,” Thor breathes.

“Nah-ah. You’re too far away,” Loki admonishes. “And I bet you’re sorry now.”

Maybe he is. Right now he can’t think straight enough to even begin to work that particular puzzle.

“So anyway,” his brother says mock-conversationally, breath hitching a little with each stroke. “Which way do you want it?”

Thor’s not good at this game. He isn’t. His face is so hot it feels like his eyes should be bleeding. “Whichever way you like it best,” he says, feeling- lame. Stupid. Hopelessly square. It’s a total cop-out.

Loki doesn’t laugh at him, though. Not this time.

Instead, he lets his head drop back among the pillows and pulls himself off quickly and messily, one hand moving so fast Thor can hear the wet squish of the lube hundreds of miles away and the other cupping his own balls ungently.

“Jesus fuck,” Thor exclaims as Loki – with a throaty moan and a last twist of his hand – ejaculates in a long splattery arc across his own chest and stomach. “You are so hot.”

He keeps watching, hand inside his own unzipped fly, as his brother – panting a little, the rise and fall of his ribs a thing of beauty – trails a finger through the mess and brings it back to his lips.

Afterwards Loki finally looks into the camera again. His dark hair is plastered to his sweaty neck and shoulders. “Your turn,” he offers, and grins.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thor learns a lot at his class. Or, rather, he learns a lot while he's away.

"Rough night," the guy at the coffee shop downstairs from the training center asks when Thor asks for an outlandish amount of espresso.

Thor smiles, bland and neutral. "I never sleep well away from home, somehow.” No one needs to know exactly how he'd spent the time he wasn't sleeping. It's bad enough that Loki'd started off the morning by texting a picture - of his own reflection, in the big mirror over the dresser; an over-the shoulder rearview selfie which... well... you know - that he must have taken sometime before their skype session.

 _new wallpaper for you_ , the accompanying text had read.

He’s ashamed to even admit to himself that, for more than a moment, he’d actually considered it.

No, Thor is plenty mortified with the whole business as is. There's absolutely no need for true confessions.

~

Class is tedious, although this time they at least learn a few new tricks that might prove useful back at the office.

The instructor divides them into teams based on their roles and job duties. Normally Thor finds that sort of forced networking annoying; today, it has the unexpected benefit of saving him from Irving. 

~

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight," the lone woman at their table - Fatima, her name placard reads, but she calls herself Ti - asks the group at large. They've finished their exercise quickly, compared to the other teams, and are sitting around thumb-twiddling as they wait for the remainder of the room to catch up.

She's not even talking to him and Thor (who has very, very specific things on his personal evening agenda) can feel his face heating. He ducks under the corner of the table to fiddle with his messenger bag, figuring being half-upside down will give him a viable excuse for practically glowing. _I'm a wreck today, thank you very little_ , he really, really wants to text his brother, but Loki's at the center by now with his own phone locked safely away.

"-those places with bowling and video games and stuff," Jim from across the table is explaining to Ti when Thor sits slowly back up into view. "It's supposed to be a good time, but it's quite a ways from here. Makes for a late night, so it sounds like a lot of people might not be going."

 _Count me among them, then_ , Thor decides. Loki is meeting Sif and Steve for Lebanese food around 6:00, and they're not weeknight drinkers; his brother should be home by 8:00 or so, maybe 8:30 at the latest. _I don't want to worry him_ , Thor tells himself, but he knows – even right at the moment he does it -that he's just making excuses. Really, he doesn't want to miss a single minute of whatever show Loki has planned for him tonight.

 _He's like crack_ , Thor thinks, _in a good way_. Dangerous, but good.

Fortunately the stragglers finish up, and the instructor calls class back to order, before he can get really lost in his daydreaming.

~

About 1/3 of the class opts to "stay in" for the evening. By and large they're the ones who live nearby, comparatively speaking; they know they’re facing long, unpleasant drives after class ends mid-afternoon tomorrow. Let the people flying home party.

They meet for dinner at a pubbish place near their hotel. It reminds Thor uncomfortably of the bar his old work crowd used to frequent. Majority rules, though; he sucks up and deals. At least no one gives him shit about not drinking.

"Aww." Midway through the meal Loki texts a picture of himself, Sif, and Steve all smooshed together in a tiny corner booth, their little table piled high with family-style food. They look relaxed and happy and he would so rather be- anywhere but here.

"Who's that," one of the girls sitting near Thor asks.

"My best friend, my partner, her- boyfriend," he explains, flipping his phone sideways for a larger image and pointing to each person in turn. He braces - everyone here can't possibly be open-minded - but she acts like it’s perfectly normal.

"Looks like they're having fun," is all she says before she turns back to the general conversation.

In return, Thor sends back a close-up of his burger.

When Loki fires back with _ah-ah… you’d better not think that replaces my meat, brother_ , Thor has to put his own phone away.

~

"You never did tell me what that thing was." Thor watches nervously, heart hammering in his chest, as his brother connects something that looks a bit like an extra-large glass drink-stirrer to a soldering-iron-style handle, and that in turn to the boxy old-school gadget with the meter and the dials.

Loki smiles dangerously, a megawatt grin straight into the camera. "Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words." He stretches to reach the nightstand, his body forming a long line of white nakedness across Thor’s screen. The lights dim abruptly, almost enough that it’s difficult to see. “Like this, eh?”

He flips a switch on the box – Thor can’t see what happens, exactly, but he hears it and sees Loki’s hand moving pale against the dark comforter cover – and the glass rod in his other hand lights up. It’s bright, almost the purple of a blacklight. In the eerie glow his teeth are a shining blue-lavender.

“So what does it do,” Thor asks, feeling stupid.

“This” – Loki brings the glowing rod close to his chest, slowly, the handle starkly black against his skin – “is infinitely more fun with a friend but- ah!” His back arches as a bright purple-white jolt of miniature lightning leaps from the rod to one nipple. “It makes an attractive lightshow either way.”

The whole display would be more weird than sexy, except for the mesmerizing way his brother moves. The simple act of watching him lose himself in a slow, methodical dance with the toy starts out as a slow burn and then grows and grows; by the time Loki tires of sparking along his own torso and traces the rod up his erect cock instead – skin glowing pale purple against the black of his close-cropped hair – Thor is breathing in short huffs and wishing he’d gotten a whole lot more naked before taking his brother’s call.

“Doesn’t that hurt,” he asks – just to have something (anything) to say - as Loki leans close in to the camera and deliberately shoots a bright bolt of lighting along his outstretched tongue. “It looks like it hurts.”

“It can,” Loki agrees, “with a metal tip. This- doesn’t. It feels good.” He traces back down to his pelvis, the rod crackling and snapping. “Really, really good.” He turns the thing off with a soft snap and leans back against the pillows. “But it would be so much nicer if you were here.”

Thor privately thinks that, if he were home, he would be too nervous to do anything but sit there and giggle. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he reminds his brother instead. “But don’t for a second think you’re going to be using that thing on me.”

Loki reaches over and brings the lights up a little. He laughs. “I bet I can get you to let me. Someday. But, no, that wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” He lets one hand flop down and starts lazily stroking himself. “So, it’s your turn for show and tell. What have you got to show me?”

All Thor has is his own body; he’s just not creative about this, not like his brother. Thor focuses on Loki’s intent, hungry expression and slowly strips himself down, shirt and then pants and then boxers. “What do you want to see,” he asks, once his clothes are all heaped on the floor.

“Touch yourself,” Loki directs, voice rough, “and pretend that it’s me.”

It’s not easy – his brother’s cool, slender hands feel so different from his own – but he shuts his eyes to concentrate and gives it all he’s got.

From the sounds Loki makes, it’s enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a big world; there's lots to learn.

“Have a safe trip home,” the guy at the coffee shop tells Thor cheerfully. When Thor frowns at him, not quite awake enough to put two and two together, he smiles. “Everyone who comes here is a student. Well, except for the staff.” He shrugs. “No one sticks around this place.”

Ah. “Must not be all that great for tips,” he tells the man as he accepts his warm cup. “Here.” He passes over a ten. “Keep the change.”

“Thank you kindly,” the guy offers, nodding. “If you’re ever in town again, be sure to stop in and say hi.”

~

As much as Thor would love to half-sleep his way through the morning, he can’t. There’s a certification exam at the end of the course, and today’s session is straight review. Teaching to the test, in other words. Which is just as boring as it sounds. Worse, probably, because he absolutely has to pay attention.

After all that talk about how he didn’t even need to _take_ this stupid class, Thor can’t exactly fail the final. What’s he going to tell his boss: _Sorry, sir; I stayed up too late having phone sex_? _With my brother_?

Yeah, that’s _so_ not going to happen.

~

The espresso kicks in, finally. It doesn’t so much make things better as it does cause them to be differently bad; rather than teetering on the very edge of dozing, Thor finds he’s nauseated and jittery. _Focus_ , he reminds himself for the umpteenth time this morning. _Just a few more hours and you can start for home._

It’s the first time since college, probably, that he has to take actual notes just to force himself to concentrate.

~

The test is fine. Really, the worst part of the whole thing is how they have to suffer through yet another sub tray lunch first. Thor wants nothing more than to hit the road, and the hour he wastes eating mediocre cold cuts and scratching his ass – in that order, and through his trousers! – is an hour he could have spent driving.

He needs an 80 to pass. He gets a 92. No problem.

~

“Thanks for coming,” the instructor says as Thor turns in his course evaluation. “I hope you learned something meaningful while you were here.”

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “Actually, yes, I did,” he assures the teacher with a smile, and then offers a quick goodbye before he’s asked to elaborate.

 _I learned that my brother looks incredibly hot shocking himself, naked,_ ” is probably not the sort of lesson the vendor has in mind.

~

Thor is actually able to get on the road a little earlier than he’d expected, early enough he will be able to pick Loki up at the shelter. They can share dinner – maybe takeout Polish? It’s on the way home – and spend a little quality time with Marci and Mac (he’s missed them too, more than he’d expected; he’d imagined he’d get to see them on his nightly calls and, while he’s certainly not complaining about the way Loki had opted to make use of their skype time instead, it feels like he hasn’t see the little furbies in forever).

And then he and his brother can disappear into the bedroom and put some of what they’ve learned into practice.

~

 _hey_ , he texts his brother from a scruzzy rest stop about halfway home. _i know you don’t have your phone with you but i’m stopped for a minute got out early pick you up at shelter love you bye_.

Punctuation is overrated.

~

Thor’s about an hour and a half out when his phone buzzes.

 _perfect_ , his brother texts in return. Thor beams.

He’s actually surprised to realize just how much he _wasn’t_ worried. Loki has seemed good the past couple of days; happy to see him each evening, relaxed, friendly. Horny, but that’s his brother’s default state. Nothing worrisome there.

He, for one, sure as hell isn’t complaining.

~

“Love you too, baby,” Thor says, laughing, as Loki pretty much leaps into his arms as soon as he’s through the shelter door. “Whoa,” he adds, mostly into his brother’s hot, wet mouth. “Mm.”

Loki is working this shift alone, Thor learns in between demanding kisses. Darcy is running late, Matt is sick, and Keisha is at her sister’s birthday party. “And I sent- an intern- home,” Loki adds, crushing his mouth against Thor’s every few words,” once I realized you were coming straight here.”

Thor pulls away just far enough to talk, laughing happily as Loki whines and fusses. “Easy, cowboy. Slow down.” He stretches to kiss his brother’s forehead, then hugs Loki close. “I have plans. Good plans,” he insists over his brother’s groan. “Pierogies, then a little kitten time, and then-,” he drags his lips down Loki’s temple and along the sharp edge of a cheekbone, “I want you to show me how to use that- that _thing_.”

That does it. Loki starts laughing, hard, and can’t stop. “I think you know how to use your _thing_ , Thor. And mine, for that matter.” He snorts. “What are we, five? It’s a _violet wand,_ brother. Say it for me.” He’s still snickering.

“Violet wand,” Thor grumbles. “Fine. You knew what I meant.”

Loki manages to get himself under control again. He leans in to kiss Thor once more, fiercely and with teeth. “I did. And I like your plan.” He shivers. “Let’s get on with it.”

~

Thor’s even able to help a little, now that they have cats of their own and he has a better idea of what to do. Between the two of them, the place is nice and clean in next to no time… even though it somehow feels like it takes an eternity.

~

“Mmm,” he hums. “These are delicious.” Along with the requisite platter of pierogies and onions, both of which are of course wonderful, he and Loki have ordered a good-sized helping of seasonal (if non-traditional) pumpkin ravioli. The plump orange pockets strike the perfect balance between sweet and savory. He feeds one to his brother, using a finger to catch a stray trickle of butter. “It’s good to be home.”

Loki licks his shiny, buttery lips. “It’s good to have you back. The monsterette missed you.” He nods his pony-tailed head in towards the back of the couch, where Mac is busy racing back and forth like crazy. “And my dick missed you,” he adds, leaning in for a slippery kiss.

Thor smiles against his brother’s lips. “How did it even have time to notice I was gone?’

“It’s smarter than you think,” Loki whispers conspiratorially. “It just knows.”

~

Loki assembles the _violet wand_ with practiced confidence. “Turn the lights down,” he suggests. “It’s a lot more interesting that way.”

Honestly, Thor isn’t sure it could be more interesting if it grew legs of its own and started dancing. He just nods, though; his brother is the expert here. “What do I do?”

Loki strips, quick and purposeful and not bothering to tease this time. “Adjust it here,” he says, twisting the closer of the two dials, “and test it on your hand. Like that,” he adds as Thor sparks himself on the palm and jumps. “See?”

His brother is right. It doesn’t hurt. It almost tickles, and it makes the muscles in his hand twitch and ripple, but it’s painless. Thor shoves Loki down on the mattress and tries running the wand up the inner side of one pale thigh. “Like this?”

“Nnn.” Loki thrashes around on the bed. “Yes, exactly”

~

Thor learns quite a lot on his first night back home.

He learns that absence really does make the heart grow fonder, and that his brother looks incredibly beautiful panting and sweaty and twitching as one drags a glass electrode all up and down his body.

And he learns that Loki sucks him off even more effectively than usual – which is really, really saying something - after a good hour of slow electrical torture.

The biggest thing, though? He learns – afterwards, when they cuddle together warm and sticky in bed – that they can admit something dangerously close to weakness without risking reprisal. “I love you,” he tells his brother, snuggling Loki close.

“Thank you for coming back,” his brother responds in turn, sounding oddly timid.

That catches Thor off-guard. “I wouldn’t abandon you, ever,” he promises. “Not for anything.”


End file.
